


Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother...

by Drixel



Series: The Black Sacrament [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 23:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17497406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drixel/pseuds/Drixel
Summary: Galandrisa Dratano is many things;Dunmer, Dovakiin, and Listener to the Dark Brotherhood, just to name a few. But the newest addition to her many, many titles is mother. An unexpected title, to say the least. But as she watched over her unusually large brood, she can't help but wonder if she's made the right choices for everyone.





	Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother...

It all started with one boy. 

Aventus Arentino.

 An orphan attempting to kill Grelod the 'Kind', the ironically named woman who ran the Honorhall. A spiteful old witch refusing to adopt out the children and being a general beast to them. It's no wonder the boy had enough and went in for murder. And despite the wild, wild ride it took her on, leading her to join and then eventually _run_ the Dark Brotherhood, she was oddly thankful to the child.

 So he was the first she asked.

"Would you like a new home?"

It had meant to be a simple recruitment, she told herself. It was meant to be one, she also told herself, but as she walked through the Grey Quarter with Aventus on their way out and watched poor Sofie lie down on the cold hard ground, in the cold unforgiving snow, she knew she couldn't leave her there. So now there were two recruits. Recruits calling her mother.

Cicero enjoyed having Aventus around. He who summoned his beloved listener was someone to be praised in his eyes. Nazir appeared to remain indifferent but on one too many occasion's she'd caught the man sneaking them sweet rolls when he thought no one was looking. Babette took a shine to her new daughter the most, taking her on as an apprentice poisoner, Aventus often leaning in on those lessons.

He'd just finished making his first poison when she found the next. Okay, 'found' in loosest sense of the term. She'd been in Riften delivering three flawless amethysts to a friend when the notion to stop by the Orphanage to check on the children ran by her, as did Hroar. Before she knew it, she was paying for a five-person trip up to Dawnstar. She explained to them on the way up what to expect, but all of them seemed eager. Almost worryingly so. 

They had no issue settling in, though Nazir sent her some pointed looks as if to say 'No more.' She merely smiled sheepishly and nodded. Babette scoffed.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

And they were promises she couldn't keep, if the appearances of Blaise, Alesan and Lucia were anything to go by.

And all of them called her mother. And she wasn't correcting them. Day in day out it was,

"Mother, look what Cicero taught me!"

"Mother, if you added this into the potion, it'll be twice as effective, Babette told me."

"Mother, can I have this-"

"Mother..."

Mother.

She was a mother. Maybe that's why she was stalking him. Lemkil. She barely knew the man, having sold him produce once or twice in the past, nor did she care for him. Neither was he a contract. But a passing comment from his daughter, a sweet younger girl by the name of Sissel, mentioning beatings from him, had her lurking in the shadows, invisible for good measure, with a notched arrow dipped in a fast acting poison Sofie whipped up. She waited for the guards to pass by and for everyone to leave the field but him before she fired. He was dead before he hit the ground, if not from the wound, but then from the poison. She sprinted a little ways away before the potion wore off, stashing the offending quiver and bow under a rock and went to check on the commotion.

Playing the good Samaritan, she offered to adopt Sissel on the spot, her past history of civility with him offering no suspicion on her part, but them came a new problem.

Britte, Sissel's twin sister.

A problem child if there ever was one.

But she couldn't just take one and leave the other to be packed off to Honorhall, alone. And she would be alone. 

So she brought both back to the Sanctuary. And watched, and waited to see when the problems would begin. And they did, almost the moment they walked through the door as Britte barged her way rather violently past Sissel. Nazir raised his eyebrows.

"I thought we said no more?" He said, sounding exasperated, in contrast to Cicero's borderline giddiness. Two new recruits, two new assassins, two new servants of the Night Mother.

"Their father was murdered," A conspiratorial wink was sent his way, "There was no one else to take them."

He ran his hand down his face. "How old are they?"

 " _I'm the older sister, by nearly five minutes. Sissel's barely worthy to walk in my shadow._ "

Britte's voice echoed across cold stone as everyone went quiet. The disdain in her voice evident as she shot her sister a glare.

"That wasn't very nice Britte-"

"It's true, though."

"It absolutely isn't." Galandrisa's voice was firm. "Everyone is worthy in the eyes of Sithis. We are all brothers and sisters here."

Britte flinched as though she been slapped and Galandrisa knew, she just knew, that undoing the harmful lessons Lemkil had hammered into their heads was going to be harder for Britte to unlearn than Sissel.

And she was right. The other children refused to play with her because of her attitude, she frequently argued with Babette, Galandrisa had caught Nazir scolding her more than once for one thing or another and even Cicero was beginning to get sharp with her on her behaviour. Cicero!

Sissel, on the other hand, had taken to her new life like a fish to water. Everyone loved her, Babette asked her about her visions, Nazir got her trinkets and Cicero made her laugh. She fit in, for once.

It was no wonder Britte attempted to run away.

It had been early on Morndas, Sundas barely having passed. Galandrisa had been coming back from a contract when she caught her with a knapsack on her back just about the open the door.

"Isn't it past your bedtime young lady?" It had been a simple question, but one that threw the poor girl into a flurry of tears. Galandrisa quickly scooped the girl up into her arms and hugged her tight as she begged;

"Please don't scold me."

The commotion brought the others, but she managed to send the away with a wave of her hand and a look promising an explanation.

Soothing the girl, she managed to get an explanation out of her.

"It's not fair. Nobody likes me here. I'm always getting punished. It's worse than home ever was." It was rapid fire and peppered with shaky gulps and wailing, but she got her point across.

Galandrisa let out a deep sigh as she rubbed the girls back soothingly. She knew it was only a matter of time before something like this happened, and perhaps she'd made it worse playing the waiting game. But she was so unsure on how to handle this situation. As Britte's sobs slowly subsided, Galandrisa wiped away the girls tears and held her face in her hands as she began to explain, hoping it was in a way Britte would understand.

"It's not that we don't like you, but you must understand that sometimes you behave in a way that it unacceptable or harmful. Your words are stronger than you think, and they inflict wounds that can't be seen, only felt. Many people do not desire to be around a person who causes such wounds." She looked into Britte's eyes, a limpid blue in contrast to her own darkest red, for any sign of understanding. She nodded. Taking that as a sign to continue, she did.

"We are all family. Everyone. Nazir, Cicero, Babette. They are your brothers and sisters under Sithis and the Night Mother. Samuel, Francois, Horar, Aventus, Alesan, Blaise, Sofie, Runa and Lucia are your brothers and sisters under me. Sissel is your sister through blood. Blood can have an awful lot of weight, but you get to decide what it means." She paused for a breath. "The point is, family does not hurt each other, and whether you meant to or not, you've hurt a lot of people."

Britte looked down, ashamed.

"If you are truly unhappy here and wish to leave, I will arrange another place for you to stay, I only ask you don't give away our location. However, if you are willing to attempt to make amends, and learn from your past mistakes, we'd love to have you as part of our family."

This sent the poor girl into a fresh wave of tears as she promised to be good, that despite everything, she wanted to stay. Galandrisa stayed until Britte cried herself to sleep. She then gently carried the girl into her own private quarters, setting her down in her bed, petting her hair as she slept fitfully.

Breakfast that day was filled with apologies. That she was still learning, and that she wanted to do better.

Galandrisa watched as her children gave her daughter a chance to redeem herself. Watched as her daughter did. 

Cicero sidled up to her, a temporary lapse in insanity upon him.

"You've chosen well, dear Listener. The future of the Dark Brotherhood is in good hands. However the future of these children is in better." 

* * *

 

_Sweet Mother_

_Sweet Mother_

_Send your child unto me_

_For the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear._

**Author's Note:**

> Did you know there's a theory saying that the orphans of Honorhall become the next generation of Dark Brotherhood Assassins. I may have extended it to the other orphans throughout Skyrim.
> 
> (I ended up mixing up the name of my dragonborn from Galandrisa to Galasandra, sorry for the confusion)


End file.
